Strange Perceptions (18 page)

“Floor ice.”

“Floor ice? What is?—Oh, fluoride?”

“Yeah.”

Wow. His parents were scaring him about the fluoride in the drinking water. I knew there were some weird fluoride conspiracy theories but had never known anyone who actually believed them.

I wanted to ask more about the locked freezer, but didn’t want Jack to freak out again.

“Ready to play a game?” I asked.

He grinned.

“Okay. Hide and seek. You go hide. How high should I count to?”

“A jillion.”

I laughed. “How about 100?”

His head bobbed up and down.

“Okay. Go hide. I’m counting. One. Two.”

He zoomed down the hallway. No doubt to hide in the bathtub since that seemed to be his safe place. I continued counting while tidying up the kitchen. Then I went to the living room, kicked back on the couch, counting loudly but slowly. The idea was to make this game drag out as long a possible.

The back of my neck tingled. I looked at the creepy African masks on the wall and shuddered.

If the freezer was padlocked, then there’d have to be a key. I could look for the key while acting like I was trying to find Jack. I rushed through the final numbers up to 100 and yelled. “Ready or not, here I come.”

First stop kitchen. I talked loud enough for Jack to hear me. “I bet you snuck into the kitchen when I wasn’t looking. Are you hiding in the drawers?” I rummaged through the kitchen drawers and cabinets. There was a junk drawer filled with odds and ends such as glue and scissors and coupons and papers and pens. No keys though.

I pushed a chair to the refrigerator. “Are you hiding on top of the fridge?” No keys up there. The pantry wasn’t large, the size of a coat closet. Canned food, boxes of rice and cereal, and other foodstuffs were stacked on the shelves. On the top shelf, behind rolls of paper towels, I discovered something horrible.

A row of clear jars, like the ones my grandma uses for canning, but these jars didn’t hold strawberry preserves or canned green beans. They contained body parts.

I saw several ears in one jar and a nose in another. A couple jars were filled with eyes—disgusting looking yellowish, bloodshot eyes. What really got me was the tongue. I hadn’t realized how large and gross looking a tongue is.

I shuddered and replaced the paper towels, hiding my discovery. What type of people were the Jellstouts? I mean, who had weird crap like this in their kitchen pantry?

I stood in the kitchen, not knowing what to do. Should I report this? If so, to whom? Storing bits and pieces of people in jars couldn’t be legal.

My biggest question was why. What possible reason did the Jellstouts have for those jars? Did he pick them up in Africa? Like the masks.

Oh my God. What if Mr. Jellstout was a cannibal? I mean, weren’t some tribes still cannibalistic? If he was then what would I find in the locked freezer? I had to get into the freezer.

I went down the hallway to the bathroom. I didn’t think the freezer key would be in there, but I wanted to check on Jack. “Are you in the toilet?” I lifted the toilet lid and heard a giggle from down the hall. So he wasn’t in the bathroom.

“I know where you are,” I said, going to his bedroom. “You’re hiding on the ceiling.”

Again I heard a giggle from down the hall. He must be in the master bedroom. There was no way his parents would keep a key in his bedroom, if they even had one in the house. With my luck the Jellstouts would have the freezer key with them.

My cell phone rang. It was Mrs. Jellstout. Talk about overprotective parents.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

“Yeah,” I said. One part of me wanted to go on, to explain we were having fun and put any worries she may have to rest, but another part of me was still weirded out by the body parts in the kitchen pantry.

“You sure everything’s fine?” she said.

“Yes. Jack’s been no trouble at all.” I didn’t mention the trauma in the bathtub.

“Good. Call me if anything strange happens.”

You mean like finding a tongue in a jar? “Strange how?”

“I mean if there are any questions. Don’t hesitate to call.”

“Okay,” I said.

She hung up. I checked the time on my cell phone. Just after seven. I still had an hour to kill before I could put the kid to bed.

I turned on the lights in the master bedroom. “Oh no. I think Jack’s disappeared.”

A giggle came from the closet.

“Maybe he’s under the bed.” I knelt down to look under the bed while scoping out the room. Small nightstands stood on either side of the bed and against one wall was a large dresser.

I pulled open a nightstand drawer. “Aha, you’re in here.” No keys. I tried the other nightstand but it was locked.

Now I had a freezer and a locked nightstand to get into.

I put my hand on the closet door’s handle. “Maybe you’re in the closet.” I opened it just an inch. “No, that’s silly. Boys don’t go into closets, clothes go in closets.” I shut the closet door.

Loud giggling came from the closet.

I put my hands to my cheeks. “Oh no. Where could Jack be? I think he’s disappeared. I sure hope I don’t have to call the police.”

The closet door flew open. “Here I am.” His grin couldn’t have been wider.

“You win,” I said. “Want to play again?”

“Yeah,” he flew from the room.

“Wait, Jack. Don’t I get to hide?”

He came back. “I can count to eight.”

“Okay, you count to eight and I’ll hide. Then it’ll be your turn to hide again.”

“One. Two. Three.”

I left the bedroom, went to the bathroom, and stepped into the tub, closing the shower curtain halfway. Shortly, Jack came down the hall, directly to the bathroom.

He pulled the shower curtain aside. “Found you.”

“Wow,” I said. “You’re good at this. Now I’ll count again. Go hide.”

He ran off again. Why do little kids run everywhere? I counted aloud as I headed to the living room and noticed, just inside the front door, a small shelf. Above the shelf was a hook with a ring of keys hanging on it.

Could I have been any less observant?

I grabbed the keys and stuck them in my pocket and quickly finished counting before yelling “Ready or not here I come.”

I followed the same routine as earlier, checking the bathroom, speaking loudly so Jack could hear me, and checking his bedroom. This time I heard no giggling.

“Hmmm,” I said loudly. “I wonder if Jack hid in the closet again.”

In the master bedroom I was tempted to try unlocking the nightstand but wanted to check on Jack first. Something felt wrong. I opened the closet door. No Jack.

Where could he be?

I did a quick check in the closet, looked under the bed, and went back to the hallway.

“Wow Jack. You’re a really good hider.”

I listened. No giggling. Where was he?

I opened the hall closet, but he wasn’t in there either. In his bedroom I checked the closet and under the bed.

Where was the little bugger?

I had checked the bathtub earlier, but not under the bathroom sink. He was neither there nor in the laundry hamper.

Back in the hallway I yelled for him. “Okay Jack. I give up. You win.”

I waited.

Nothing.

My cell phone rang. I pulled it from my pocket. “Hello?”

“Where’s Jack?” It was Mrs. Jellstout.

“We’re playing hide and seek. He’s hiding.”

“Did you give him any water?” she asked.

“Uh.”

“Emily! Listen very carefully. Did you give him any water?”

“He was thirsty but didn’t want tap water so I gave him a glass from the pitcher in the fridge.”

“Oh my God. We’re on our way. Wait for us. Don’t go outside and don’t call the police.”

“Why would I call—” but she had already hung up.

Did I poison him with the water? And how did Mrs. Jellstout know?

“Jack! This isn’t funny. Where are you?”

I ran back down the hall to the master bedroom and looked again. “Jack! Are you in here?”

I rushed though the hall closet again and his bedroom and the bathroom, all the while calling his name.

Where did he go? Maybe he slipped past me and was back in the kitchen.

I ran to the living room. The masks on the wall seemed to be judging me. I rushed into the kitchen, checked every cabinet and the pantry.

“Jack! Come on! You want more ice cream?”

Maybe he slipped past me into the garage when I wasn’t looking. I headed across the kitchen to the garage door and opened it. The lights were still off from earlier. I doubted Jack would be in the dark garage, but I flipped on the dim light anyway.

There weren’t many hiding places in the garage. “Jack, you out here?”

I stared at the padlocked chest freezer, indecisive. Should I check it out or continue trying to find Jack.

I was tempted, but what was more important? Satisfying my curiosity or finding the missing kid?

I hadn’t checked the doors and windows. I rushed back into the house, leaving the garage door open behind me, and ran to the front door. It was locked and the deadbolt was set. He couldn’t have gone out the front door.

“Jack! You’re mom and dad are coming home and they’re going to be very angry with you.”

I checked his bedroom window. It was closed and for some reason had bars on it. He couldn’t have gotten out there.

I ran to the master bedroom. Neither of the windows there had bars, but they were both closed.

“Jack. I’ll give you all the dinosaur stickers you want if you come here right now.”

I ran back into the hallway. Where else were there windows?

The living room windows didn’t open. Above the bathtub was a small window. Maybe it was small enough for a little boy to climb through but how would he reach it? He couldn’t have gotten out.

In the hallway I screamed. “Jack! Come here now!” The neighbors probably heard me screaming but I didn’t care.

Where’d he go? Why did Mrs. Jellstout tell me not to go outside? And how had she known he was gone?

What if Jack wasn’t Mr. Jellstouts real son and the biological father had kidnapped him?

I ran to the garage again and checked the walk-in door. It was locked, but he could have went outside and pulled it shut behind him.

The Jellstouts would be home any minute. I rushed over to the chest freezer, fished the keys from my pocket and tried different keys in the padlock. The third one fit. I unlocked it and opened the freezer.

Jack was inside the freezer. He lay flat on his back, eyes closed. A quarter inch of frost covered him.

I heard a shriek. It sounded far off in the distance. After several seconds I realized it was me screaming.

Darkness shrouded the edge of my vision and I felt lightheaded. I reached out, grabbed the freezer for support, trying not to crumple to the ground. But I couldn’t look away from Jack. How did he get in there?

The motor on the garage door whirred to life and the garage door started rolling up. What could I do? I hadn’t put him in the freezer but the Jellstouts would think I had.

Their car came halfway into the garage. Both doors opened and Mr. and Mrs. Jellstout rushed to me.

I laughed—I don’t know why. Laughter was not appropriate. Nothing seemed real. Was I stuck in a crazy dream?

“Oh dear,” Mrs. Jellstout said, putting her arm around me. “It’s okay. It’s all okay.”

I pulled away from her. “No it’s not. He’s in there.”

“I know dear. It’s okay.”

Mr. Jellstout grabbed me from behind.

I tried to slip from his grip, but he was too strong.

“Bring her,” Mrs. Jellstout told her husband. She walked past me, into the house and I noticed her necklace. The gem was no longer red. It was gray and it pulsed. Bright-dim, bright-dim, reminding me of a beating heart.

Mr. Jellstout pushed me forward. I started to scream but his hand clamped around my mouth.

He whispered in my ear. “You be quiet if you want to live through this.”

He pushed me into the kitchen and into his chair—the one Jack had been afraid to sit in—and stood behind me. Mrs. Jellstout was searching for something in the junk drawer.

“Whyaht?” I said, a combination of why and what. I couldn’t even form the questions I had. There were too many.

Mrs. Jellstout found what she was looking for in the drawer. She came toward me, holding a hand behind her back and speaking. “I’m sorry Emily. I thought it would be okay, but we were gone too long. See, Jack drowned almost a year ago.”

She was crazy. Jack wasn’t dead. Yet he was in the freezer. Impossible. I didn’t understand.

“It was the worst day of my life, but Jonathan knew just what to do. We froze poor little Jack’s body and he contacted a shaman friend he had in West Africa.”

I just stared at her.

“Three weeks later they were able to give Jack’s spirit form. I had my little Jack back.” She looked at her husband. “Hold her.”

He held my shoulders.

“It’ll all be fine, Emily. You won’t remember a thing, but I’m afraid we won’t need a babysitter again for quite a while.”

She brought the needle out from behind her back.